


You May Hope

by teamcharm



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, au where the war doesn't exist?, character death but that's bc you know. reincarnation, lin/caspar are not together but they're together, linspar is not a focus but they're there. do not separate them, mentions of other black eagles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 02:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21129593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamcharm/pseuds/teamcharm
Summary: Dorothea was nineteen years old.It’s been four years since she regained her memories of her past life, yet nothing has come from it. No one knew who she was.She was alone in this world./ Reincarnation au with Dorothea and Caspar.





	You May Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is....a gift fic for my friend which. I went too wild with I guess because this was certainly not meant to be 8k. But dorothea & caspar...bro they are sibs!!! 
> 
> Also do not separate caspar and linhardt.

“Just a little more to the left...yes right there! Stop; that’s the spot Caspie!” Dorothea told him. Caspar immediately accidentally dropped the box instead of setting it down gently. “Hey be careful,” she scolded him.

“Hooo...sorry...is that all?” He asked, wiping sweat off his forehead into his sleeves. 

“Nope. You have,” she glanced at the other props and objects scattered on the ground, “seven more things to move.”

“I said...I would help you...not...arrange the whole...stage…” Caspar complained, out of breath. 

“But my big bro can handle this right?” He groaned. Dorothea laughed a little; maybe she enjoyed teasing Caspar a little too much. He was like a brother she never had. Which was true, Dorothea had no family in her life. She was always alone. The only family she had, if it counted, was the Mittelfrank Opera company. “C’mon Caspar, if you won’t join our little production, then at least you could help out your big sis hm?” 

Caspar was lugging all of these (perhaps heavy) objects and props because the monastery was preparing to put out a play for children. Currently they were setting up the stage. 

Manuela was in charge of the whole project, and Dorothea was helping her as her assistant to make sure everything was running smoothly. Of course Seteth oversaw the whole production as well, but due to his duties as the adviser to Lady Rhea, he left most of the work to Manuela. Seteth trusted that the two of them would be able to manage without him because of their opera background. 

Preparing for a play was no small task-- it meant you had to hold auditions, or find volunteers for the roles of the play, recruiting a crew, holding rehearsals, preparing props and so forth. It reminded Dorothea of her days in the opera, which wasn’t that long ago. It’s been seven months since she temporarily left the company to enroll in the Officers Academy. 

Dorothea was determined to make the show as perfect as possible, and give a taste of the Mittelfrank dazzle for people who didn’t have the means to see one of their performances.

She managed to rope Caspar into helping out as backstage crew; though she was saddened a bit by the fact that he didn’t want to participate in the play himself. Dorothea was the main lead, and she thought Caspar would have made an adorable co-lead. Unlike most operas she has performed, which involved drama, angst, romance, the theme of this theater piece was family. It was a nice change of pace for someone who sung about heartbreak too many times than she could count. 

“Okay, that’s enough lazing around. Rehearsal is in an hour and I think we should be done before that so hmm...pick up the next box.” Dorothea pointed to the one she wanted Caspar to move. 

“That one looks heavy too,” Caspar noted, eyeing it with hesitation.

“Think of this as like extra training to build up those muscles,” Dorothea tried to spin it in a positive light.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Training…”

Dorothea watched Caspar lift up another box. That would have to go on the right side of the stage. 

Her thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Mittelfrank. This just reminded her too much of her time in the opera. Dorothea wondered how everyone was doing while she was at school. 

She did not know what was next to come in her life once she graduates from the academy, but she wondered if she could invite all of her classmates for one opera show. There’s only so much you can do at a monastery or a nearby town.

Dorothea wanted to dazzle everyone

* * *

She did not get her wish however.

Edelgard rose her blade against the church. She pointed her weapon against the Goddess. 

They were enemies of the church now. 

* * *

Fodlan was engulfed in the flames of war.

* * *

She was not a believer of the goddess, but Dorothea prayed, prayed for the war to end until her knuckles bled. 

* * *

The goddess was not merciful to her.

Was she ever though?

If the goddess loved all of her children equally...why has Dorothea suffered so much.

Dorothea gave a laugh of pity, but it came out more like a cough. The bitter taste of iron filled her mouth. 

Was she truly ever meant for more in her life? It was always an uphill battle no matter where she went. 

Dorothea just didn’t know...and now, she has her answer.

She was dying.

Bleeding.

In the streets of Enbarr. 

She once envisioned that she might have died on the same alleyways of Enbarr as a child, but she never expected to be twenty-four, and dying. 

It hurt to breathe.

Luck was not on her side this time. 

She was lucky enough to be recognized for potential talent by a scout from Mittelfrank Opera company. Because she had such an opportunity, she sung her heart out as if her life depended on it. 

But the older she got, the more she realized she had nothing. People didn’t love her because of who she was. They loved her for the entertainment she brought. They didn’t care to get past the image of the pretty girl with the melodious voice. 

Past the glitter and gold of the world of opera, Dorothea had nothing. There was nothing on her name. No land, no property, no family, no power, no nothing. She had to secure a future for herself; and thus she wormed her way into the Officers Academy in hopes of achieving said goal. 

What she didn’t know however, was that enrolling in the imperial year 1180 would be a defining step in her life. She made many wonderful friends...who she now staked her life for. 

And that’s what was happening right now. She was dying for Edelgard’s war.

Edelgard always said that one’s death was never in vain...but Dorothea didn’t want to go out like this.

She didn’t want this war. 

It was not wholeheartedly Edelgard’s fault, but Dorothea didn’t know who else to be mad at. The Goddess? How could Dorothea blame something she didn’t believe in. Herself? Maybe she could blame herself, Dorothea didn’t have much to like about herself...but she didn’t want to believe that her own death was her fault. That was a rather sad way to leave the world. 

She heard a voice.

“Dorothea!! Can y..o he..r me?”

_ Yes _, but no audible words came out of her mouth. She was tired. 

“Oh Doro…, han...there, Linh...t w...be...h...oon. Oh man t…”

Was that Caspar?

His voice sounded muffled, as if he was speaking underwater. She wanted to call out to him, to reassure him that everything was okay, that he needed to run, to hide, but her voice failed her. It felt like she was slowly sinking into the bottom of the ocean.

If only a life of peace existed for the both of them.

For everyone.

_ I’m sorry Edelgard... _

Dorothea embraced the darkness.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was showtime

The limelight was hers, and she was the star of the show. Her dress twinkled in the light, and she twirled to the beat of the music. 

Who was she performing for? Dorothea didn’t know. She was only fifteen years old, yet the star of the show. The people loved her, adored her. She heard someone describe her voice as ‘if angels could sing’.

Dorothea should be proud of herself for landing the main role at such a young age; new recruits never climbed ladders this fast yet...this somehow felt all too familiar to her. Once she joined Mittelfrank Opera company, everything fell into rhythm. 

All eyes were on her. From the bottom to the top row, the whole building was packed. She gave a radiant smile to the audience, and sung. That’s what they came for, didn’t they. 

Her voice...who was she singing for? Dorothea didn’t know. She was only fifteen years old, a newbie to this company. 

She had talent, everyone told her, she knew that. But to her, performing and acting, it was just a means of survival. How long until people get bored with her? Dorothea had to do her best. And so, Dorothea embraced her role as the diva people thought she was on stage. 

Her eyes scanned the audience as she dramatically sauntered over the stage. She recognized a few regulars. 

Her breath almost hitched.

Blue eyes.

Dorothea saw blue eyes.

Her heart almost jumped out of her rib cage. She remembered laughs of people she didn’t know. She remembered screams of people she has never met before. She remembered the taste of blood. 

She remembered dying in the streets of Enbarr.

Dorothea almost wavered on the note she held. 

She was singing for that pair of blue eyes. 

* * *

Dorothea was nineteen years old.

It’s been four years since she regained her memories of her past life, yet nothing has come from it. No one knew who she was.

She was alone in this world. 

Dorothea has been working in Mittelfrank for four years now. 

They called her “The Crimson Rose”, yet she never figured out where the name came from. She had no fondness for roses.

It was the end of the show, curtain call time. The audience gave an encore, and Dorothea bowed, hands interlocked, with the rest of the cast. 

Dorothea wore a smile on her face, but on the inside she was exhausted. It was the last show of the night, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down on her bed and sleep. She only hoped that the dreams of the past wouldn’t haunt her once again. 

“You stole the show once again Thea,” Mel, a friend of hers, praised her. 

“Oh not at all, you were wonderful too Mel. I was impressed with the way you held your c notes,” Dorothea complimented her. She may have been the lead, but everyone was equally important to make the whole performance good. A lead role can’t simply carry the whole show. 

“Oh you liked that? Glad to know; it was a bitch to nail during rehearsals. Boss was so harsh on me,” Mel complained as she scooped her black hair into a ponytail. “I wish I was a natural like you.”

Dorothea frowned...sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if her talents came from her past life, or the fact that she worked diligently to improve herself. She couldn’t tell. “But you’re amazing too. No one can hit the high notes like you do,” Dorothea decided to deflect the praise from herself. 

“I know, I know, otherwise they would have kicked me out of here,” Mel joked. 

They continued to chat about the show until some man approached Dorothea. She recognized him. He was a regular patron at Mittelfrank.

“How kind of you,” her voice dripped with honey, accepting the roses. She would have immediately disposed them if it didn’t feel like a cruel action against nature. Someone grew these roses, Dorothea couldn’t help but show a little compassion for that.

It was the same thing always. In this life, and the past life. Men would flirt with her, praise her, flaunt her...as if she could care about any of that. They could give her anything she wanted. 

“For you Mel,” Dorothea gently presented the roses to her friend. She didn’t care for the gifts men gave her, instead they belonged in the hands of other girls. 

“Giving a gift away to me huh?” Mel laughed into her hand. “How awful. Thanks, I’ll treasure these roses from the Mittelfrank’s own Rose.”

She loved performing. She loved singing. She loved the feeling of being on stage, and losing herself to a role of a fictional tale.

But Dorothea longed for something more beyond the stage. 

* * *

Being a noble usually meant that you studied politics, oversaw policies, dealt with common affairs, went to social gatherings with other nobles, ruled territories, and the list went on for what duties the life of nobility entailed.

Caspar and Linhardt did none of that.

Instead, they set out on a journey to explore the whole world...or that was their intent. Instead it was more like they wandered wherever their feet went. 

They did not however, expect to be returning to the Empire so soon. 

“Oh hey, looks like we’re back at Enbarr,” Caspar pointed out. The streets were bustling with many people. Didn’t matter what time of the year it was, the Imperial capital was always busy. 

“So it seems,” Linhardt replied.

“Huh,” Caspar’s eyes darted from place to place. The streets looked the same- except they fixed that one hole in the ground that was there because of Caspar’s misadventures- and none of the shops have changed. The last time the two of them were here was a year ago, and it was right before they decided to just go north of Enbarr for their first adventure. “Looks like nothing has changed since we’ve been here.”

“Well it’s only been a year. If you want to see change, we would have to avoid Enbarr for at least five years to notice a difference,” Linhardt told him in a matter of fact. 

“I wonder if Marla’s still open. Maaaan, I’d really would love some sweet buns right now.” It’s been a while since Caspar has eaten anything sweet and this is the perfect opportunity to indulge in food he likes. Normally, when they traveled it meant that they had to be picky with their meals which wasn’t fun for either of them. “Are you hungry?”

“Sure.” Linhardt seemed indifferent to eating but still followed Caspar along. 

Lots of people passed by them. 

Caspar once heard that Enbarr, the Imperial capital, was the most populated city in all of Fodlan. But he wasn’t sure how true that was; Fodlan was a pretty big continent, with three different countries inside of it. He and Linhardt were exploring Fodlan for a year, and they hardly made a dent into the continent...or it didn’t feel like they did. It was hard to know once they were out of territories they were familiar with. 

A crowd of people forming around some building caught Caspar’s eye.

“Hey, what’s the commotion?” Caspar asked Linhardt, curious. 

However, instead of Linhardt answering, a random nearby citizen replied to him, “It’s the opening night for Mittelfrank’s new opera. It’s an original!”

“I see,” Caspar said, not really that interested. He didn’t really know what the big deal was. 

He was not an arts person. He could appreciate it, but he didn’t have an eye for it the way other people did. Once Fleche askis his opinion on tapestry, and he just gave an unsatisfying answer to her. It looked nice, but that’s the best he could offer.

But...something pulled him there like a magnet. His feet just wanted to straight up march over there, and see what the big deal is about this opera house. 

“Oh, it’s the Mittelfrank Opera house...we went there once as kids didn’t we,” Linhardt recalled a memory. 

“Oh.” Was it a sense of nostalgia that pulled him there? “We did! You fell asleep halfway through the performance.” Caspar remembered how he had to shake Linhardt awake without causing a disturbance and alerting their parents. Actually, it was a wonder how their fathers civilly sat together for three hours straight. 

“It’s not my fault the music was the perfect lullaby to sleep to,” Linhardt defended himself. 

“You missed the best part where the evil guy got stabbed!” Caspar was sure they weren’t allowed to use real weapons in the opera, but something about the fake pretend death fascinated him...Maybe it just appealed to his sense of justice.

Linhardt frowned. “If I recall correctly, the opera was a tragedy. But is that truly all you got out of that performance? You were awake for all of it,” he pointed out. 

“Well that’s the only thing I remember now! That was like eight years ago Lin; how am I supposed to remember what else happened,” Caspar argued. 

He should have kept moving along with Linhardt, he was hungry, but his feet stayed planted on the ground.

There was something...something about the opera house. He _ had to _go there. 

“Caspar? Are you coming?” Linhardt called out to him once he noticed that he wasn’t trailing behind. 

“Oh huh? Oh yeah sorry Lin,” Caspar apologized but he did not move at all. Linhardt gave him a curious look. “Hey, say, why don’t we see a show for old times sake,” he pointed to the ticket concession stand outside of the building. 

“I’m not opposed to it, but do we have enough money for it?” Linhardt asked him.

“Eh probably.” Caspar brushed off any of Linhardt’s concerns. “How expensive can it be?” Caspar thought optimistically. 

However, he was proven wrong very soon. 

“800 gold?!” Caspar exclaimed. That almost cost as much as to buy a sword. And you could use a sword more than once! Why were opera tickets so expensive. What made _ this _ opera house so special compared to all the other ones. Not that he’s ever been to other ones before but still!

“Maybe if we came here a year ago while we still had that money I took from my family we could have afforded this. Today however, not likely,” Linhardt flipped through a small pocketbook to confirm. Caspar assumed it was filled with their finances. That was probably easier for Linhardt to do than to actually fish out their gold and count it. 

“Bummer.”

“Why don’t we just go to Marla’s instead,” Linhardt suggested. 

“Oh right, that’s what we were going to do in the first place.” Caspar couldn’t help but feel a bit sheepish for getting so easily distracted. 

Oh well. There was probably nothing special about Mittelfrank Opera house. 

* * *

“Linhardt, you won’t believe what just happened!” Caspar burst through the door. The two of them decided to book a room at an inn. Linhardt was currently sitting on a bed, reading a book.

Linhardt sighed as he looked at Caspar’s face. There were a few bruises forming there, and it looked like his hand was lightly bleeding. He closed the book he was reading. “Oh I’ll believe it...come here,” he ushered Caspar to the bed so he could heal him. 

“Look, I got some opera tickets,” Caspar waved them in the air. 

“That’s good but please, Caspar come here.” Linhardt paused and stared at him for a second. “Wait, I thought we couldn’t afford this.”

“Yeah but, I just got these for free. I guess Lady Luck was on my side today,” Caspar mused as he walked over to Linhardt. 

“Did you loot them from whoever you got into a fight with?” Linhardt hands went to Caspar’s face and started healing him. Normally white magic made Caspar feel woozy, but he was so used to Linhardt’s touch it kind of became a routine for them. A routine that Linhardt complained about, but he still healed Caspar anyways. 

Caspar welcomed the warmth of healing magic. His face felt a little more pain-free than a moment ago. “Actually no. And I wouldn’t steal.” He had some virtues. 

Caspar began telling his story to Linhardt, “But what happened was I went to a tavern, and then some thief appeared and stole from one of the patrons! And I of course couldn’t just stand there and watch, so I ran after him into some alley. Asshole got a few punches on me but-”

“Your hand,” Linhardt interrupted him. Caspar raised his hand for him. Linhardt gently places his hand over Caspar’s and began to heal it.

“In the end justice prevailed! I returned everything he stole to the patron and she wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to giving her thanks. So, she gave me her opera tickets. The lady said she couldn’t make the show anyways, and it would be a waste to throw away the tickets so she gave them to me. Who woulda thought that we could have gotten these for free,” Caspar mused. He certainly wasn’t expecting to get tickets just for doing what any regular person would when they saw a crime. 

“Well, this isn’t anything new for you.” Linhardt removed his hand. Caspar kind of missed the warmth of the magic; his hand just felt cool now. “If that’s all I’ll,” he yawned into his hand, “goodnight.” Linhardt collapsed into the bed. There was a soft thud noise. 

“You’re going to sleep with your clothes on?” Caspar asked. Neither of them have dressed down or changed into nightwear. 

“Too much work,” he replied lazily. Linhardt closed his eyes. “It’s the same sleep regardless what clothes I wear.”

“Wait Lin don’t fall asleep yet,” Caspar placed his hands on Linhardt’s shoulders. “You’re coming with me right?”

“I’d rather sleep…” Linhardt yawned again.

“I didn’t mean now. I meant the opera show tomorrow!”

“Yea...I suppose it would be a waste to not after all the trouble you went through.”

* * *

After two days of waiting, it was the night of the opera show. 

Linhardt and Caspar were seated in the middle section of the room. Not exactly the best location, but not the worst either.

Nothing really caught his attention (other than Linhardt softly snoring into his shoulder). Caspar wondered why he wanted to be here exactly; he wasn’t bored, but he wasn’t exactly entertained either. The piece was about some sort of tragic romance, which is something he didn’t particularly care for. Show him some action instead! He’s heard one of the performers used to do a sword dance or something, now THAT’S something he wants to see. 

Caspar wasn’t paying much attention until a woman in a red dress appeared on stage.

She had brown hair, and the most striking green eyes he’s seen. 

They made eye contact.

Something…

Something about her...felt familiar. But he did not know what.

Caspar didn’t care much for the arts, but his eyes did not dare to leave the stage for the rest of the show. 

...

After three hours worth of singing, they’ve reached the end of the show. Caspar tapped Linhardt. “The show’s over buddy.”

Linhardt blinked. “Oh...is it,” he yawned.

“Yeah! You missed like. All of it,” Caspar told him. 

“My conclusion is that the music was so pleasant that it put me to sleep,” Linhardt concluded. 

“I don’t think the performers would take that as a compliment.”

Caspar looked around. Almost everyone was filtering out of the building. It made sense, the show was over. But a few lingered, presumingly wanting to see the cast.

Caspar...wanted to do that too. Something compelled him to do that but he wasn’t sure. Maybe he was just curious.

“You can sleep more if you want I uh. Have something to do,” Caspar stood up from his seat. He decided that he’ll just have a real quick look at one of the performers. He wanted to see the woman with the red dress. 

Linhardt surprisingly followed him to the stage instead of stealing another quick nap. 

Caspar did not think this through at all, because he noticed that all the other patrons that wanted to talk to the cast had gifts in their arms. He was empty handed. Should he have brought something? 

No, it was fine. Caspar was just going to take a real quick at the lady, and then leave. 

“I thought you didn’t really like these sort of things?” Linhardt asked him. “What happened while I was sleeping…”

“Nothing! Nothing happened I just…” Caspar couldn’t place his finger on it. Is this what people mean when they said they were captivated by a voice? But he refused to think it was something so simple as that. “I guess this opera captivated me or something,” he shrugged.

Linhardt said something to him, but Caspar did not hear a single word.

It was her. 

“That’s my sister!” Caspar blurted out without thought. Everyone looked at him and he felt his ears heat up with embarrassment. Why did he say that?! But it got the woman’s attention.

They made eye contact.

“Caspar, you don’t have a sister,” Linhardt pointed out to him. “Unless you failed to mention this to me in our fourteen years of friendship.”

“No, no I don’t. I…” He awkwardly scratched his face thinking of an explanation. In all honesty, he did not know what just happened now. Thoughts appeared in his head and he just blurted it out without thinking. He did not know how to explain this. Caspar just...recognized her. And not because Dorothea was a big opera star or anything.

“Sister hm?” A voice interrupted their conversation. “Oh my, so you do see me as your sister Caspar!” she sounded delighted.

It was Dorothea who spoke.

“Um. Huh?!” was all Caspar managed to get out.

“I missed you so much Caspar. It’s good to see you after all these years,” she gave him a warm smile. It looked familiar. It felt familiar. But he couldn’t place his finger on it once again. This opera company is famous within the Empire right? Maybe that’s it. Maybe he’s seen her before. But that explanation didn’t feel quite right.

“I’m sorry...have we met before?” Wait hold on. “Wait, how do you know my name Dorothea?” Caspar asked, alarmed. They have never exchanged names before. 

Wait, why did he know her name. 

It’s because her name was on the pamphlet they gave every guest on the way in, he told himself, even though he probably didn’t actually read it. It’s because Dorothea was part of a famous opera company, Caspar told himself, even though he doesn’t know much about opera. His family had maybe dragged him to a few showings before when he was younger, but he never paid much attention to the people. 

There was a moment of silence between the two. “Have we not met before?” Dorothea asked. “You know my name, it seems.”

“I...I don’t think so?” He answered but it came more like a question. Caspar frowned. She looked so familiar. For some strange reason he felt like he’s known her for years, yet this was their first time meeting.

“Maybe both of you mistook each other for someone else,” Linhardt finally interjected into their conversation. “How curious, for two people to mistake each other for someone else.”

“No that...that can’t possible be it,” Dorothea frowned. “I’m very certain that we’ve met before,” she insisted.

“I really don’t think we’ve met before but,” Caspar couldn’t completely deny what she was saying.

“Caspar, why don’t we go out for dinner and figure this out.” She offered. “There’s a lovely restaurant down the street from here.”

“...Sure?” Caspar agreed without much thought. His gut feeling said to go with this, and so he did. He wasn’t one to ignore his impulses, he was very bad at that actually. “I guess we could do that.”

Maybe she’s one of his relatives. Oh no is this another Fleche situation where someone gets mad at him for not recognizing their own family. 

“Great. I have some business to take care of before I can dine, but I’ll meet you in an hour okay. The place is called Velvet Dreams.” And with that, Dorothea left. 

“See you?” Caspar weakly waved her off goodbye, confused.

Linhardt finally spoke after quietly observing this whole conversation. “So...do you have a sister,” he inquired.

“No? I don’t think so? Not a sister at least...the Bergliez family is kinda big I mean so. I didn’t meet Fleche and Randolph until a few years ago? Maybe she’s part of the Bergliez house I just don’t remember her?” Caspar rambled.

“Well, if she is your cousin you’ll have your answers soon enough.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Caspar asked.

“As interesting as this sounds, Dorothea directly invited you only. And also the show made me,” Linhardt yawned into his hand, “tired so...I’m going back to the inn for a nap.”

Caspar wondered if Linhardt ever got tired of sleeping too much. “Oh okay. I guess that’s good because you won’t nag me in front of someone!”

“Nag you? Ah is this about your eating habits. I’m just concerned for you Caspar,” Linhardt frowned. “Don’t eat the way you always do. Not only is it improper table manners, you’ll also scare the lady by choking to death.”

“Aw c’mon Lin, that won’t happen.” Truly his eating habits were not as awful as Linhardt thought they were.

Linhardt gave him a look of doubt. “You say that, yet you choked on the sweet buns yesterday because you were eating too fast.”

“That’s because I was excited! It WON’T happen again,” Caspar defended himself.

“For her sake I hope not.”

“Hey! What about mine?! We’re talking about my life here.”

“You’re a walking danger, I think there is little I can do since you won’t heed my advice,” Linhardt said, shrugging. 

...

Caspar was actually here. 

He actually walked into the restaurant Dorothea suggested, sat down at a table and waited for her. He even ordered tea for the two of them as he waited. 

Caspar sipped the tea...what was this? It tasted awful. 

Sweet-apple? He didn’t taste any apple in this. Why would they call this apple tea. 

“Oh...you actually came,” Dorothea called out to him.

“Why wouldn’t I?” But the actual question should be why would he. He didn’t know her. And he has no real reason to meet her, even if he was curious as to why...why she looked so familiar to him.

“You keep staring at me Caspar, is something wrong?” she asked.

“Oh no, no, not at all. Don’t worry about it,” Caspar reassured her. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is great actually! Why don’t you have some tea,” he pushed the plate that held the teacup towards her even more. 

Her eyes doubted him, but Dorothea didn’t push the topic further. She picked up the teacup with her hands and tasted the tea. “Oh...this is my favorite. How did you know?”

“I didn’t. I didn’t think you would like drinking ginger tea, so I went with the safe choice!” 

“I see,” she looked disappointed. 

Caspar kept staring at her. Did he look weird doing this? He needed to come up with a conversation topic.

But Dorothea beat him to it. “Do...I have something on my face?” she patted the corner of her mouth with a napkin trying to get a non-existent stain off her face.

“No, not at all! No your face is fine, it’s more than fine. But hey. Do I know you?” Caspar finally expressed his thoughts aloud. He stared at her face, trying to remember who she was. “Are you part of the Bergliez house.”

“No. I’m not part of your family,” Dorothea’s words disproved his suspicions. “Do you know who I am?” she asked him instead.

“You’re Dorothea…”

“Well, that’s a step I suppose. Anything else?”

“You work at an opera aaaaaand…”

“And?” She asked, hopeful. 

He kept thinking, racking his brain, but nothing came to him. All he knew was that he felt a sense of familiarity with her. “Yeah that’s all I got.”

“I see,” Dorothea sounded disappointed. She looked out the window of the restaurant. Although it was night time, a few people still were out on the streets. “You called me your sister so I wondered…”

“Yeah uh. I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry. You feel so familiar though…” Caspar drifted off in thought. Maybe he met her in some social gathering that he forgot about. “Have we met at some high society social gatherings or something? My parents dragged me to a couple of those”

“No, we have not,” she told him. “How about we play a game Caspar.”

“A game?”

“I tell you a name, and you tell me if it sounds familiar to you,” Dorothea proposed. 

“That’s a strange game but, I guess we can play that,” he agreed.

“Petra.”

He thought for a second. “No.”

“Bernie? I mean Bernadetta?”

Another pause between the two. “No clue who that is either.”

“Ferdinand?” 

Now that’s a name he recognized! If it was the right Ferdinand. “You mean Ferdinand von Aegir? The Duke Aegir’s son? I’ve met him before, but I don’t know much about him. He’s probably going to become the next Prime Minister but eh, doesn’t really concern me,” Caspar his tea after spitting out all of that. This wasn’t a serious game but at least he got one point. 

“You have the right Ferdie but…” Dorothea drifted off. “How about Hubert.”

Hm...that sounded familiar. But the more he thought about it, he just didn’t know. Caspar shrugged. “The name sounds familiar, but don’t know them.”

“What about Eddie?”

“Nope.”

“Oh my bad, I meant Edelgard,” Dorothea corrected herself.

“You mean the imperial princess? Who doesn’t know her,” Caspar stated. He may be miserably losing this game but at least he got a point for Edelgard. You would be living under a rock if you don’t know her name, at least in the Empire. She was next in line to be the Emperor. Caspar heard that her coronation is to be held soon.

“You may have a point but uh, do you know her personally?” She inquired, with a sparkle of hope in her eyes. 

“Maybe if I became the Minister of Military Affairs I could have, but I don’t know much about her. Unless you count the rumors as truth about her,” Caspar told her. 

Dorothea frowned at the response. It seemed like that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Who was that guy with you in the opera house,” she changed the topic.

“Oh that’s Linhardt,” Dorothea seemed to perk up. “He’s my best friend. We’ve known each other for ages.” It was true, they met when they were six years old and now they’re twenty. 

She chuckled. “Even in a different life, you two wouldn’t be separable.”

“Hm? Did you say something?” Caspar asked her, not really catching what Dorothea just said. 

“Oh no, not at all. Say Caspar, do you believe in past lives?” She asked him

“Hm…” Caspar thought. He didn’t know if he believed in reincarnation. To him, when he thought about death, death was the last final destination. If you died, you died. There was no fixing that. “I don’t know,” was the answer he gave her. 

“We seem to be drawn to each other, yet we don’t know why. You can’t help but wonder,” Dorothea chuckled lightly. 

Linhardt would probably find such hypotheticals more plausible and/or interesting than Caspar did, but he didn’t want to deny the possibility. “I suppose.” 

“Maybe it was fate that brought us here together,” Dorothea suggested. 

“Fate...I dunno about that. Seems like a stretch,” Caspar thought aloud. It seemed more like dumb luck if anything. 

“Well Caspar, I don’t know how long you’re planning on staying in the capital but why don’t you stay here for a little longer?” Dorothea requested with the sweetest voice. “We could get to know each other more.”

“Ehhh. It’s kinda expensive here,” he honestly answered.

“Okay then. Why don’t you come to another opera show then, free of charge! You can leave after that,” she negotiated with him. 

“Ah geez, I couldn’t possibly accept,” Caspar said. 

“It’s free,” Dorothea pushed.

“Well, if you’re offering I guess I can’t say no.” Caspar gave up.

“Excellent, I can’t wait to see you!” 

Dorothea handed him a ticket. 

* * *

Caspar debated on giving his ticket away to someone else who would actually get something more out of seeing an opera than him but. Something. Something pulled him to the opera house. It was a strange feeling of familiarity. 

But it wasn’t nostalgia.

No, he got that when he ate some candy floss with Linhardt. It was a deeper feeling.

Like some sort of connection that ran deeper than he could imagine.

So he went to see Dorothea perform again.

_ “Oh, won’t you remember me, my love?” _ She tearfully cried out to her partner, who she was engaged in a duet.

_ Won’t you remember me. _

_ Remember. _

Something felt oddly familiar about Dorothea. He just didn’t know what.

Was it fate?

* * *

Instead of staying a few days at Enbarr, it ended up being a week. 

Caspar didn’t know why, but he kept seeing Dorothea. It was like as if he gravitated towards her. 

They were currently drinking some tea together. 

“Careful Caspar! Don’t burn your tongue,” she gave him a warning but it was futile. He was already drinking the tea.

“Ouch! Hot,” he yelled out.

“I did warn you,” Dorothea sighed. “Would you like some honey with your tea? You said you liked that right.”

Did he?

“Have I mentioned that?” Caspar doesn’t remember saying that to Dorothea ever. They’ve only known each other for a short time. “But yes, don’t mind if I do,” he scooped some honey into his tea.

Dorothea watched him. 

* * *

It’s been eighteen days, and they’re still in the capital. 

Caspar couldn’t figure out this mystery, and it bugged him. 

“Maybe you just miss your family,” Linhardt suggested. “It’s been how long…” he thought for a second, “a year and five months since you’ve seen them?”

“I dunno about that,” Caspar honestly told him. He could always write letters to his family. He could always visit his family if he really wanted to. “This feels deeper than that.”

“Are you sure you’ve never met her before then? It’s quite strange to feel such a strong attachment to someone you’ve never known,” Linhardt commented. 

“That’s the thing!” Caspar exclaimed. “I’m certain I’ve never met her before, yet I feel like I’ve known her for years. The other day I remember she could play the piano, even though she never told me that, and I have never seen her play the piano either!”

“Interesting…”

“It’s not interesting it’s frustrating! It’s been bugging me for days.”

“Do you believe in reincarnation,” Linhardt asked him. 

“Reincarnation?” This conversation sounds oddly familiar...did he have a similar conversation with Dorothea?

“The concept of being reborn into a different life after death,” he explained.

“I don’t know,” Caspar admitted. He never really thought about these sort of things deeply before, but he might have to at this point. It was hard not to entertain this though. 

“The connection between you and Dorothea...it could be linked to the fact you’ve known each other in a past life. That is one possibility,” Linhardt explained his thoughts to him.

He frowned. It couldn’t possibly be reincarnation. 

Caspar thought you were supposed to keep all of your memories from past lives, yet he had none. 

* * *

Caspar woke up, drenched in sweat. His hands were shaking. He was not wearing gloves. There was no blood on them.

He released a sigh of relief. 

He was just in an inn, sleeping in a bed with Linhardt.

_ What the hell was that. _

Caspar dreamed of a war, a war where he killed his friends. He remembers swinging down an axe on someone named Ashe. 

He shivered just thinking about it.

He decided to push the uncomfortable thought aside.

It was just a dream...yet it felt so strangely real. 

Caspar looked over Linhardt. He was sound asleep. 

What a bizarre dream.

* * *

The dreams did not fade. 

He saw Dorothea die in his arms. 

* * *

“Happy birthday!” Caspar exclaimed. He offered some flowers to Dorothea. “I didn’t know what else to get you so uh, I hope these are okay.”

They were.

“Thank you Caspar, these are beautiful.” Dorothea happily accepted the flowers into her hands. “But how did you know?”

“Um. How did I know? Good question.” He scratched his head in thought. “Did you not tell me it was your birthday?” He weakly asked.

“No.” 

He looked confused. “Weird…”

Dorothea decided to push her luck. “Well thank you very much, big bro.”

It took him a moment to respond. He looked a little pale. “...Bro.”

“Yes?” She gave him an innocent smile.

He would have normally yelled at her for calling him that, but he didn’t. Caspar looked shocked to hear her say that. Maybe he remembered something about her after all.

“Ah um. No it’s...it’s nothing,” Caspar looked uncomfortable fumbling over his words. “Um. Happy birthday Dorothea, I hope you have a good evening Ihaveerrandstodookbye,” he booked it out of the tavern.

Dorothea watched with concern. Was he okay? Did she push it too much…

She drank her wine. Stupid her. This wasn’t her past life, they were not siblings.

* * *

“You’re leaving?” Dorothea asked, surprised.

Maybe these news shouldn’t have shocked her. Caspar did tell her that he and Linhardt have been travelling all over Fodlan for the past year. It was only a matter of time until they decided to leave Enbarr.

It was a miracle that they two of them somehow managed to stay in the capital for a month. 

When she saw Caspar, she thought she had a week at best with him. But days turned into weeks, and she thought she had a chance to meet someone from her life again. 

Maybe she was too hopeful. 

“Yeah, to visit my family. I haven’t said a word in a year, and I think they think I’m dead in a ditch or something,” Caspar laughed though he seemed to have found no humor in what he said.

“I see. Well, I wish you safe travels.”

“Thanks. I had a fun time while I was here, I hope we can meet again Dorothea!”

Oh she did too. 

But maybe that was wishful thinking.

Maybe it was a bit foolish of her to hope that she and Caspar could reconnect. But she hoped that maybe, just maybe, they could reignite their past bond. 

* * *

“Do you ever get dreams of people you used to know?” Dorothea asked Mel the age old question in one of their tavern trips. Dorothea already knew the answer, but she asked anyways. She hoped someday to get the answer she seeked for. 

“Like...of dead people?” 

“No, just people you used to know.” Though, that wasn’t inaccurate for her situation. Dorothea had dreams of the dead, and the alive. They were both alive and dead at the same time. How funny. 

“Well, I guess.” Mel thought about it more as she swirled her wine glass in thought. “Sometimes, I miss the people who left the company but I dunno, I still send letters you know. I sent Lea a letter the other day.”

Was she even close enough to Caspar in this world to do that? To send letters to each other? She didn’t know. 

But where would they go anyways...Caspar and Linhardt were travelling all over Fodlan, and humans don’t have addresses. 

* * *

Dorothea decided to make peace with the fact that in this world, she would not have the same bonds she had with people she knew in her past life.

It did not work work with Ferdinand.

She could not reach out to Bernadetta nor Petra.

She could not get close to Edelgard or Hubert.

It did not work with Caspar or Linhardt. 

She missed them all dearly, but it made her happy enough to know that some of them at least led peaceful lives.

She was cursed with these memories, but if that came with the cost of peace then be it.

* * *

Dorothea wondered what made this world so different that Fodlan wasn’t engulfed in flames of war.

But she didn’t dare to question this blessing. 

* * *

Caspar did come back to the capital with Linhardt a month later.

Dorothea was surprised that it was Linhardt who sought her out, and not Caspar.

“Oh Linhardt, can I help you with something?” She gave him a smile. Dorothea was so focused on Caspar because she thought there was a connection between the two of them, but she also missed Linhardt. 

“You might actually. You see, I keep having peculiar dreams.” Linhardt did not elaborate however. 

That was a very vague answer. “Oh, what are these dreams about? Are they nightmares?” Dorothea pried for details. She didn’t want to overshare with Linhardt. “I heard chamomile tea helps you sleep better.”

“I believe they might have been dreams about a past life.”

That got her attention.

“Oh you too?” Dorothea asked. She has not met a single person who shared her memories so far. She met Ferdinand once in a ball that she somehow managed to get invited to. It took quite a ton of work to squeeze that invitation out of some noble she didn’t remember nor care about, but she did it. 

But Ferdinand did not recognize her. Or at least, not in the way she wanted him to. He said he recognized her from the opera, and the smile on her face fell. They danced together, and that was the end of it (though she got to see his...questionable moves on the dance floor. Some things never change).

“Yes, it’s quite perplexing. Thinking about the blood makes me queasy,” Linhardt admitted.

“Oh you don’t have to tell me. The war was terrible,” Dorothea bitterly thought aloud. The memories of her past life plagued her. She remembered all the lives she had to take. 

“I never said anything about a war,” he pointed out to her.

“Ah…” She seemed to have slipped up. “Linhardt what are you exactly doing?”

“I have a theory that you’ve been reincarnated, and you may have possibly just proven that. How fascinating, to think someone I know has been reincarnated.”

“Oh Lin, there’s nothing interesting about this. Dreams are just dreams. Don’t you think it’s fun to think about what your life could have been in the past,” Dorothea lied to him. It was actually a nightmare to have memories of her past life. Some days she would wake up, with tears in her eyes because of the dreams she would have from her past life. 

Her currently life was different, but yet, she was haunted by the past. Haunted by people she did not know in this life. Or people that were no longer part of her life. 

“Perhaps, but Caspar has the same dreams,” Linhardt told her

That made all of Dorothea’s resolve drop.

“...He does?”

“He said he held your bleeding body in your arms as you died on the streets of Enbarr.”

“I see,” Dorothea said quietly. 

“Apparently, Caspar says he knew me in his past life too...yet we’ve known each other for fourteen years, but I have not gotten a single memory from my past life. How puzzling; are there certain requirements in order to unlock one’s memories? Maybe we should rebuild our past bond and see if I remember anything,” Linhardt’s hand went to his chin in thought.

“Lin, seriously. You cannot be thinking this,” Dorothea deadpanned. “The past...was not good. For once enjoy the bliss of ignorance.”

“But that just makes me ever more so curious,” Linhardt told her. “I don’t see the problem. Sometimes you have to suffer for your research,” Dorothea didn’t even bother to argue with his logic she felt like it would have been a losing fight from the start. “ You’re living a much happier life now?”

She didn’t know about that. 

“Yes. Everyone is quite honestly. And I’m thankful for that. I suppose...if carrying these awful memories comes with the price of peace, I’ll bear the burden,” Dorothea told him. 

“How noble of you,” Linhardt commended her.

“I’m happy to see you Lin, even if you don’t remember me.”

“It’s good to see you too, Dorothea. Say why don’t we rebuild our relationship.”

“I’d like that.”

* * *

Caspar came by to see her a few days later. 

She was getting ready for another show. 

“Oh hey Caspar.” Dorothea greeted him warmly. “I haven’t seen you in a while! How was your trip?”

“Oh it was good. Yeah it was good,” he said as if he was distracted by some other thoughts. Dorothea frowned, Caspar really wore his heart on his sleeve.

“Is something wrong Caspar?” she gently asked him.

“Um actually. Hey Dorothea, I don’t know if this is the right time to ask-”

“I have time,” Dorothea interrupted him. 

“Okay uh. Do you ever just, possibly get dreams about a war between the Empire and the Kingdom?”

Oh, so Linhardt wasn’t bluffing. Not that Dorothea didn’t exactly believe Linhardt but for someone who was quite lazy, he was very astute. He was really good at making people admit things without asking them to.

“Yes. Linhardt told me about this,” she told him. 

He scoffed. “Did he? I didn’t see that coming I don’t know where to go from here.” Caspar stayed quiet for a moment. “Uh. How much did he tell you?”

“Not much, just that you had dreams about this,” Dorothea decided to omit the part where Caspar saw her die in his arms. 

“Oh…”

“When did you remember?” She asked him.

“Only recently...I think a month after I met you I’ve been getting dreams about a war, and you’re in them! Linhardt is in them! All of those people you asked me a two months ago are in my dreams too, and I just can’t wrap my head around it,” Caspar admitted to her, with a frown on his face. 

“Yeah it’s a bit difficult at the start.” Dorothea remembers getting her memories specifically just because she saw Caspar in the audience during her performance. “You think they’re just strange dreams yet...they’re part of your memories.”

“I finally remember who you are Dorothea...we…” he struggled to get the sentence out. “We all died, didn’t we?”

“Did we?” She asked him out of genuine curiosity. Dorothea did not remember anyone else dying that was on the Empire’s side of the war. “...I remember I died in the streets of Enbarr. I don’t know about anyone else.” 

“You bled to death in my arms…” Caspar said, not looking at her anymore.

So she did. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Dorothea hushed him gently. She was just happy enough to have someone she knew back in her life. The past didn’t matter anymore. 

“But…! We killed people,” Caspar argued.

“So we did. That’s how war is,” Dorothea bitterly replied. That’s the reality of war. War is cruel, especially to the common folk. They were just pawns to nobility in the game of war. The godess was not kind to anyone in their old life. There was only bloodshed. 

“Yes, but…”

“I know.” She understood the feeling well. She hated the smell of blood. She hated killing people. She hated the heavy feeling on her chest that she felt every day. “We can do nothing about that anymore.”

“I know but I just...I don’t feel right with all of these memories. I wish...” Caspar faltered on his words, unsure what to say. 

Dorothea pulled him into a hug. He didn’t resist her and wrapped his arms around her. “It is a burden,” Dorothea agreed with him. “But we can no longer do anything about the past. We just have to keep marching forward.”

“I guess you’re right. I’m sorry it took me this long to find you though,” Caspar apologized. 

“It’s quite alright. I’m just happy to be reunited my lil bro,” she cooed the lil bro at him.

He looked embarrassed but happy. “Geez, don’t call me that...sis.”

“You called me sister!” Dorothea exclaimed.

“Just this once ehem...I missed you Dorothea.”

“So have I Caspar, so have I.”


End file.
